Legends never die
by Zacarius
Summary: The last dragonborn recieves unexpected help in his quest to slay the world eater from those he thought long dead. But really, since when have legends ever stayed dead.


_Heroes: legendary figures of history who have accomplished great and terrible deeds. Beings almost worshiped like the gods themselves, only to fall into obscurity with the passing of time. Only to be remembered by scholars and nobles after their passing, but is anyone truly ever gone?_

"Hey, you're finally awake." This is the first thing I hear as I return to the waking world. As I turn to look at the speaker, I find a blonde haired, blue eyed Nord wearing stormcloak colors in binds sitting across from me. "You were the one attempting to cross the border, got caught in that imperial ambush just like the rest of us."

As I went to respond, another voice interrupted me, "damn you stormcloaks, if it wasn't for you I would have stolen that horse and be halfway to hammerfell by now." The speaker was a dark haired nord in rags who looked a bit malnourished. He turned to me and continued his rant, "you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these stormcloaks the imperials want."

"We're all brothers and sisters in bonds now horse thief." The stormcoak said.

"What's with him?" The horse thief asked.

"Watch your tongue!" The stormcloak snapped. "Your speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak. The true high king of Skyrim!" This news startled me. Even in Cyrodiil I had heard of the war hero turned rebel leader. He is a dirty blonde man wearing triditional Nordic noble furs and leather with his mouth gagged, undoubtedly to prevent the use of his thu'um.

"Ulfric Stormcloak? The jarl of windhelm? Your the leader of the rebellion. If they've captured you... oh gods where are they taking us!" the horse thief exclaimed, and I could sympathize. We were likely not long for this world.

"I don't know, but sovengarde awaits." The stormcloak said in a reverent tone. We approached a walled town that I recognized as Helgen as I reflected on the irony of my situation. After all as the last living member of the Septim bloodline, being executed as a rebel by the empire your ancestor founded isn't how I thought my life would end. Of course it's not like anyone would believe that my great grandfather was Martin Septim and the hero of Kavach's bastard child. Even I sometimes don't believe it. When I asked my dad why our family never took the throne he said that neither Martin or the hero really wanted it and with Martin's sacrifice, the hero hid who the father was to protect the baby.

"Come, best not keep the gods waiting." I was disrupted from my introspection by the Stormcloak announcing our arrival in a rather morbid way. As we disembarked from the carriage I caught a glimpse of what I could have sworn was a deadric twilight before it vanished. Shrugging it off as my imagination I waited for my name to be called by the imperials.

"Ralof of riverwood," the imperial officer called out to the Stormcloak I shared the wagon with. "Lokir of Rorikstead" he called for the horse thief.

"Wait we're not rebels!" Likir exclaimed before making a run for the gate only to be shot down by archers.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The imperial captain asked rhetorically.

"You there," the soldier called to me, "step forward, who are you?"

"My name is Siegfried, from Bruma." I said.

(POV switch third person)

"Haskell!!!! Why is Azura in The Isles!! Not that I mind but a LITTLE WARNING WOULD BE NICE!!!" Sheogorath screamed to his ever faithful chamberlain.

"The lady Azura said she has something important to tell you but did not elaborate to me." The dour man responded to the mad god.

"Ooo, a secret! This should be interesting. Wait don't tell me, old mora's pet dragon broke lose, NO wait vampires have blotted out the sun!! OR MAYBE Alduin has returned to devour the world!!! Hope it's not that last one." The mad god rambled.

Azura, who had taken the form of a beautiful dunmer women with silver hair and eyes, is flabbergasted that sheogorath had hit the nail on the head so quickly. "Yes Alduin has retur-

"WHAT, I didn't save the world from Dagon just for some overgrown lizard to destroy it later, or maybe I did? Can never keep these things straight." Sheogorath said.

"Yes well, your other half's descendant , who I might add is the only person of the dragon blood remaining, is about to be executed, and he is the only one qualified to stop Alduin." Azura continued, trying to ignore the growing headache.

"Well that won't do, not at all. Are the Aedra saying anything about this?" Sheogorath asked.

"They said everything will work out as it was intended to." Azura said

"Well then! Nothing to worry about, might as well enjoy the show." Sheogorath said as he pulled up a deadric sigil stone and used it as a scrying orb. On the screen showed Siegfried. He has brunette hair that goes down to his shoulders kept out of his face with a man bun and brown almost golden eyes.

The two deadric princes watched as Alduin attacked Helgen and Siegfried escaped with the imperial Hadvar. "Ain't this a hoot! Old lizard breath saved his mortal enemy from the chopping block! I almost want to be there when he finds out! Ha now that would be a sight!"

"Well why don't you sire?" Haskell asked.

"What are yo-"

"The greymarch! Haskell you genius! I'm sure the little missy must be dying to stretch her legs for once." The mad god said.

"My champion is also due to return from akavir in a week. I have no doubt he'll want to get involved as well." Azura said with a mischievous smile.

"Ha, the Nerevarine, hero of kavatch, and the last Dragonborn working together. Those dragons won't know what hit them, after all" Sheogorath looks up as he transforms into a beautiful red haired woman with golden eyes, "Hero's never die."


End file.
